Faded
by DiemDreams
Summary: When Seto Kaiba tore the fourth Blue Eyes White Dragon card, he unknowingly released the latent memory of a reincarnated maiden. Now awakened, she comes to Domino City, certain that fate has given them a second chance. But can Seto put aside his past injuries to let her in?
1. Faded

Faded

There is a man who visits me every night in my dreams. Hair a burnt sienna, skin a golden brown, and eyes a deep cerulean…

He once told me he was the shadow to my light.

 _"_ _What light?" I asked, running my fingers through his hair._

 _"_ _The one inside you," he said, catching my hand in his. The sun's rays casted a glint in his eyes._

 _I felt a blush creep up to my cheeks. "You have your own light," I replied, feeling slightly abashed. "Everyone does."_

 _A soft wind blew past, gently brushing the fringe from his face. His eyes bore into mine before glancing off and occupying themselves with the blades of grass that lay between us. He uprooted the shoots and released them individually in a rhythmic cascade. "Not I," he said, watching them float unhurriedly back to the earth. "Not for some time."_

 _I inched closer to him until our noses were almost an inch apart. "You do," I told him. "You've only to rediscover it."_

 _He grinned and leaned in. "I've already found a new one."_

He took me to the edge of the world where we walked among the trees and under the stars. The moon gleamed ahead of us, dancing off the white of his vestments.

 _"_ _There, you see," he said, holding our hands up and pointing beyond the confines of our path. "There can be no light without darkness. Conversely, there can be no darkness without light. You and I, we complete each other. If not for my shadow, how would I have seen you? If not for your light, how would I have known that I was in the shadow?" His arms encircled around my waist and drew me to him._

We are running.

Someone is pursuing us. The pebbles hop up and down as we dash through them.

"Set! Accept your fate! Your fate as pharaoh granted by me is light and shadow."

"Keep running!" Set shouts hastily, pulling me forward as we weave between the columns and evade the blasts from behind us. There is rubble everywhere.

We can't go on.

"Kisara, stop!" he calls to me.

I can't. I won't let him hurt you again.

"Become the Dark King!" the terrible voice roared.

"Kisara and I are not your tools for revenge!"

What is that coming towards us? I can't let it hit him.

I'll protect you.

"Set," I say, reaching up to touch his cheek. The blue of his eyes was fading away. I don't want to miss them. Don't cry, Set.

Please don't cry.

-o-

The morning light poured in through the sheer curtains, stirring a young woman from her recurring reverie. Tears brimmed from her sky blue eyes and streamed down her cheeks. She sniffled and buried her face into her pillow, not comprehending why her heart ached so much or why she was so overcome by a mere dream.

She didn't want to leave him…

He was her friend and great love. She was dying and there was nothing either of them could do. She had touched his face and watched helplessly as he fell apart.

The maiden sat up and leaned her head back against the headboard of her bed. It was just a nightmare, she thought. Just a nightmare. The last dream was different from any other that she had had previously. All the others were radiant and peaceful and endearing; last night's was wicked and despairing. Perhaps she was too stressed.

Set will be waiting for her. He had always waited for her, for as long as she could remember—always there to assure her gently through all of the travails she endured. She would see him again when she fell asleep tonight.

A sinking feeling set in. No, she would not. The sharp pain in her chest betrayed her hopes. There was some quality in it so unlike that produced by a dream, even if it was a bad one. She stared ahead past the footboard and at the opposite wall of her studio, taking in her surroundings. It was as if she was seeing the room in a new light or for the first time. But the room hadn't changed. She had.

She touched her hand to her forehead and drew her hair back. That wasn't a dream. Somehow she knew that it wasn't. It was an experience…a memory.

In all of three thousand years, why was she barely remembering this now? And if she was alive again, then where was Set?

A/N: After rewriting Fall to Pieces, I had the inspiration to tell the story from Kisara's point of view. From the anime, I never got a real sense of closure from Seto's connection with Blue Eyes; I wanted more! Seto and Kisara's history is the most interesting of all the Yugioh characters, in my opinion, and there's so much material to work with! Inspired by the song "Faded" from Alan Walker, you can bet I played it plus fifty times over as I was writing this. The icon I used is found from Google. It was also my motivation, so props to the original and "anonymous" artist.


	2. Eyes Wide

Eyes Wide

It'd been nearly a year since the morning Kisara awoke from her last dream and memory of Set. With the vestiges of her former self ingrained within her mind, she had been searching the multitude of passerby and acquaintances that she encountered, hoping her eyes would alight on the one person her heart longed for.

The gears of the train screeched as they slowed to a stop at the upcoming station, the first of four that she had to pass before reaching her final destination in Domino City. She watched enviously as the travelers moved on and off the platform, some to lovers, some to companions, some to family…

It was rather the same three thousand years ago, as it is now, she thought. With fleeting friends, an alcoholic father, and a mother who left them for another man, she didn't have much to miss or to return to.

A steward pushed hastily through the cabin, two large suitcases clutched tightly in either hand. Trailing leisurely behind him was a young woman about her age with flaming red hair and golden eyes lost in thought. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," the redhead said with a hushed tone of annoyance, "I'm on the train. I went through the back like you instructed." She stopped and held onto a railing like a child petulantly standing her ground to make a point. "Honestly, big brother, this is not my first time traveling by myself." Realizing that she was rudely having her conversation in front of a stranger, she flashed a sheepish smile and moved on.

Kisara smiled back and turned her attention to her phone, which began buzzing. She had a meeting with the principal of her new school tomorrow morning before first period. The matter of her being an emancipated minor and a part-time worker needed to be discussed. After confirming her attendance, she plugged in her earphones and leaned back against her seat, staring out the window as the train gradually chugged forward and left the station behind. Closing her eyes, she attempted to clear her mind of the disappointments in her life and focus instead on the possibilities that awaited her in the city.

-o-

The whistle sounded and the train jerked to a final stop, shaking her awake. This was her last stop. She pulled on her shoulder bag and quickly collected her suitcase from the overhead bin. The next bus would leave in thirteen minutes.

As she navigated away from the platform and in the direction of the bus stop, she noticed the girl from earlier standing in the pick-up area. It was inexplicable why she was suddenly feeling nosy about the scene. Perhaps it was the sleek limo that pulled up seconds later or the trim chauffeur coming around the back to open the passenger door. Or perhaps it was the admiration on the face of a raven-haired boy as he bounced out of the car and was enveloped by his sister.

Kisara felt a hollowness in her gut as she watched them from the corner of her eye. She presented her luggage to the bus driver and waited for him to give the okay to board. Looking over at the reunion again, she saw that a second person had emerged from the vehicle. He was much taller than the two younger individuals that he was ushering into the car.

"Miss," said the bus driver, calling her attention. "Seat 65, front of the cabin and to your right." She thanked him and stole a fleeting look back at the mysterious figure. However, the door was just closing on the family and the chauffeur was already heading back to the driver's seat. It's just as well, she thought. It's not like anything ever came from her wishful thinking.

She took her seat on the bus and checked the distance and travel time to her new studio on the phone. It appeared that they were making good time—curious. She figured transportation would be slower with spring vacation ending today and school starting again the next day.

About half an hour later, she got off at a bus stop situated some five minutes from her apartment complex. "This is it," she murmured, glancing at the building number. It had an older design like the other shops and houses in the area and unlike the modern towers and high rises she had left behind on the other side of town. After meeting with her landlord, a curt middle-aged man, she received the key to her studio and rolled her luggage up to the third floor.

It wasn't until she set her belongings down and leaned back against the vinyl floor that she realized her breathlessness. She had made it into the city, all of the dreary childhood and adolescence experiences left behind her. In her chest, she felt a puff of excitement for what this new life would bring.

She quitted the room and stepped out onto the balcony for some air. The sun was sinking along the horizon, its rays sending an array of vibrant orange, red, and pink across the sky. Miles ahead of her and atop a blue-cast hill, she could see the faint outlines of a grand mansion. How differently the affluent live from the rest of us, she thought light-heartedly.

-o-

The next morning, she awoke in a spirit of anticipation. How many hours she had last night, she didn't know. By the time her alarm clock had sounded, she was ready to leap out of bed and start her morning routine. It was a new day, she thought, pulling her silvery hair into a ponytail and pinning her fringe back. She left for school as the sun was rising over the distant hills and skyline.

Arriving in front of the school gates with twenty minutes to spare before her appointment with the principal, she looked around and tried to take it all in. Around her, clusters of girls and straggling boys greeted each other animatedly, sharing stories of their spring adventures or mis-adventures and discussing who was in whose homeroom. Kisara kept her head down as she ducked past them. More than anything she just wanted to be saved the unavoidable fact that she knew absolutely no one—one of the cons of starting anew.

-o-

The meeting with the principal ended well; she would be able to take some time off from school to work if she could prove herself capable of keeping up with her academics. Closing the door to the principal's office and thanking the receptionist, she embarked on the exceptionally nerve-wrecking walk to homeroom. Every now and then, there would be some nods or audible referrals made about her being the new girl.

It was even more obvious when she sat down next to a messy-haired and loud blond male student. His name was Jonouchi and his voice carried across the classroom, causing everyone to redirect their attention at them both. He was apparently pleased with the attendance today, getting to know a new face and wishfully attributing the remaining empty seat in their classroom to mean that another student—Kaiba—was half-way across the world on a possible company trip for the rest of their senior year. Although some of his peers argued otherwise, citing that they saw Kaiba's sister at the front gates, Jonouchi remained blissfully unperturbed by this information, insisting smugly that he'll believe it when and if the topic of their conversation manifests himself.

The door to the homeroom opened and in walked their homeroom teacher. She curtly took attendance and issued announcements. In response to Jonouchi's blurted question about Kaiba's whereabouts, she promptly responded, "It's not for you to know," and left to change rooms with their first period teacher.

The morning was quickly over as second, third, and fourth periods breezed by. Kisara picked up her lunch and shoulder bag, ready to escape her alienation and retreat to some shady spot in the courtyard. Just as she reached the door, a hand reached out and slid the door back for her. "Hey," Jonouchi said, "mind if I walk with you?" She smiled and shook her head.

He followed her down the second flight of stairs. "Sorry if I embarrassed you earlier today," he laughed nervously, "we're glad to have you." They descended the steps to to the first floor. "You seem really cool. My friends and I are in different homerooms this year and it's nice not to be stuck all year with just Kaiba and his fanclub." She giggled, noting how obsessive he'd been about this particular student all morning. "Is he really that bad, this Kaiba?" she asked, as they rounded a corner and entered the courtyard. Asking this question seemed to have uncorked a bottle of pent-up feelings from her peer.

"Have you been spreading rumors that my brother is away on a business trip for the whole year?" an amused voice asked from behind them. Turning around, Jono and Kisara met with the red-haired girl from the train. She threw her arms around Jonouchi's shoulders and greeted him.

"Hi, I'm Mitsuki Kaiba," she said next, extending her hand to Kisara and inquiring about the latter's impressions of the school; she had recognized her as the same person from yesterday and was in possession of the facts about her being a transfer. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Jonouchi casually slinking away and called him out. He stopped in his tracks and laughed nervously, asking if her brother was present. Still smiling, she replied, "Nope." Jonouchi blew a sigh of relief. "But he's coming," she added. "Shall I tell him you're joining us for lunch?" He pretended to consider her offer for a moment before dashing off in the opposite direction.

Kisara studied the young lady beside her, reimagining the limo and the two males that were with her yesterday. The taller one must have been her elder brother, she thought. But how could someone related to this seemingly good-natured person be so hated by Jounouchi? "He's probably off to find Yugi and the others," her new acquaintance said with a pensive air. "Are you waiting on them?" In response to Kisara's denial, she suggested that they have lunch together.

They walked around the courtyard, trying to decide on a place to settle down, but it appeared that many of the other students had already occupied the tables in the immediate area. "Ah," Mitsuki groaned, eying certain groups of female students as they ambled past and neared the direction of the track field. "There's no point sitting with any of them," she mumbled. Kisara stole a glance around and asked what she meant.

The smiling, whimsical face from earlier was replaced by one of suppressed annoyance as she recounted the students' fearful admiration of her brother and their mediocre mean-girl antics against her. "…he's the dark king of the school and I'm the social pariah. You wouldn't believe some of the stories they made up about my brother and me. Yech…" Her voice trailed off as the ringing cell phone in her skirt pocket captured her attention. It was somewhat comedic watching how quickly her mood changed and her tone brightened as she agreed over the phone and hung up. "Speaking of which, he's here."

Kisara allowed herself to be led back towards the courtyard and into a clearing with some flower plots. Some ten yards away, the landscaping crew was busy repotting plants and trimming the hedges. No one else thought to come here, she reasoned, observing the lack of students. Spying a table situated partly in the shade of a cherry blossom tree, they approached the male student sitting with his back to them.

Her guide walked over to the side of the table and announced their arrival to the expecting party of one. "Kisara," she said, beaming and gesturing with her hand, "meet my brother, Seto." He turned around and they were caught in an astonished gaze. Kisara gripped her lunchbox closer against her abdomen. Those blue eyes and reddish brown hair… "Set?"

A/N: After debating forever how to bring them together, finally, they meet. This was a fun and exciting chapter to write.


	3. Vagabond

Vagabond

Kisara rushed up the second story staircase, trying to keep the tails of Jonouchi's jacket in sight while carefully dodging the stream of students pushing against her in the opposite direction. Her new acquaintances were so certain that sixth period would begin in ten minutes. Unfortunately, they mixed up the class time with one that began at a quarter-hour and, thus, were all about five minutes tardy to their next class.

Jonouchi paused outside of the classroom door as she clasped both hands to her knees and caught her breath. After she had straightened up, he slid the door open and nodded for her to go in first. It was an extremely unpleasant experience, walking in the midst of a deafening silence and having everyone's eyes upon you. "Ah, so you've finally decided to join us for class?" the teacher drawled on sarcastically. His tone had a biting quality to it, the words sounding as if they were uttered through the space between gritted teeth.

They were expected to remain standing before the class as he hurled insults against their characters and, with some relish, suggested the prospects of detention to discourage the occurrence of another offense. Kisara kept her eyes low to the ground, feeling the heat rise to her face in a fit of shame. This was her first day of school and she had already managed to ruin it. It was especially sad that Set was sitting in the back of the class and had to witness her humiliation.

"Cut her some slack," Jonouchi said. "She's new here and got lost. It's my own fault I'm late." He was quickly reprimanded for his rudeness. "I don't even have to ask what you were doing, Katsuya," the teacher hissed. "You've always been on thin ice." He turned his eyes on her. "As for you, Hakuryuu," he snarled. "I suggest you get a map and consider whose company you partake in. As it is the first day of a new school year, I will let you off with a warning but let me catch either of you late again and there will be consequences." After bowing and assuring him of otherwise, they retreated to their seats by the window. "Sorry," her ally whispered. Kisara nodded, feeling too numb to respond.

Class picked up from where it left off before their arrival. Until they changed teachers, she had to fight the urge to glance to the back right of the classroom where Set—Seto—was sitting. It was imperative that she stare ahead and avoid any chance of being caught off guard by the irascible middle-aged man writing on the chalkboard. Yet, her mind was incapable of focusing on anything he said; it kept wandering back to the encounter at lunch.

 _"Set?" she whispered, her chest feeling tight and fluttery. He looked so much like him._

 _"—o," Mitsuki chimed._

 _She nodded, correcting herself and trying her best to maintain normalcy. "Nice to meet you, Seto," she said, smiling and extending her hand._

 _He rose from the table and dodged her. "I've brought your lunch," he said curtly to his sister before turning around and walking off. "Oh, what? You're not staying?" Mitsuki asked, catching him by his sleeve. He needed to discuss his work and school schedule with the administration, he said._

There was a numbness in the pit of her stomach as she reimagined the scene. She had silently called to him, but he continued further on without a rearward glance. It took everything within her not to run and throw her arms around him.

He didn't remember her. She rested her chin on her palm and tried to make sense of the equations ahead. Perhaps it just takes time… After all, she didn't recover her memory until a year ago.

She took up her pencil and recorded some notes from the blackboard. It had to be him. It couldn't be coincidence that she was drawn into coming to Domino. It couldn't be coincidence that she had met his reincarnation.

He had something inexplicable that was wanting in her previous suspects. She reimagined the rich blue of his irises. They were the same ones that glanced softly across the blades of grass in her previous dreams, albeit cooler and more removed. She wanted to catch his eye again and talk to him. As soon as this period is over, she will casually walk over to his desk and invent a topic to make conversation.

-o-

The last bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Kisara sighed, watching the stainless steel edges of Seto's briefcase slip behind the classroom door. It seemed like every time she tried to catch him, he was away or surrounded by adoring peers. Was he always this elusive? She loaded her pencil case into her bag and straightened up from the desk, pushing the chair neatly in.

"So where are you headed?" asked Jonouchi, swinging his messenger bag over his shoulder. "The gang and I are going to wind down with some burgers and karaoke. Are you interested?" She thought for a moment as they walked together into the hall. "Sure," she accepted, thinking it might cast a nice light on the rest of the day. There was nowhere she had to be, anyway.

Exiting the building, they saw Anzu, Yugi, and Honda awaiting them at the school gates. "Hey!" Anzu called, waving them over.

"How did it go?" Anzu asked, walking alongside her as their group crossed the street and headed for the train station. "Pretty well," she answered, not totally satisfied with her response. Aside from the awkwardness with the students, narrowly missing detention from the calculus teacher, and failing to get a moment with Seto, it wasn't too bad. At least, she had made one friend in class and was on her way to making more.

"Oh, you shouldn't worry about Kaiba too much," said Anzu lightly. "He's reserved towards everyone but his brother. He can be decent at times though."

"Every blue moon," Honda muttered. Jonouchi contested their evaluations, demanding aloud the occasions when his antagonist was ever decent to him. "What about his sister?" Kisara suggested, curious as to why they hadn't mentioned her. "I think he's warming up to her," Yugi offered thoughtfully.

She could not inquire further after their meaning because her ringtone was sounding from her bag. Apologizing that she needed to answer it, she pulled out the mobile and held it up to her ear. "Miss Hakuryuu?" the caller asked. She confirmed and asked what the correspondence was about.

It was an invitation to interview for the job post she had applied to a week ago. "At five—you mean today?" she asked, incredulous at the short notice. "That would be most convenient, yes," answered the butler. She glanced around at the others, feeling embarrassed to have to refuse their invitation. "Don't worry about it," Jonouchi reassured her. "Next time." She smiled and nodded gratefully, hoping he wasn't saying it just to be kind.

At the station, they stopped for a few minutes before parting ways for their separate platforms. "Tell us all about it tomorrow," Yugi requested. Amid their well wishes, Kisara nodded and thanked them before heading in the direction of her rail car.

Choosing a seat by the window, she wondered what her new work environment would be like. The description was rather vague about the "private employer," but the expectations for the candidate were stringent. The more she imagined, the more on edge she was. She took a couple of deep breaths, watching the trees and bridges fly past her window. Her school uniform made her feel less sophisticated than she would have liked. If only she had heard back from them earlier, she could have brought a change of clothes…

Arriving at the central station, she walked the length of the platform to the pick-up area and scanned the vehicles for the license plate of her dispatched driver. Having located it successfully, she approached the car and the driver came around to open the door to the backseat.

He wasn't one for talking, she quickly found out. On and on she rambled about their scenic drive, hoping he'd open up and betray some descriptions about the interview and his master. The older man was unwavering.

Leaving the main road and wounding upwards, the verdure quickly overwhelmed her sight. There was nothing around them but trees for miles. Suddenly, she wondered if it was a mistake getting into this car. What if she was actually being kidnapped? The driver's eyes glanced lazily in the rearview mirror. "Sit tight, Miss. We'll be there in ten minutes. " She chuckled nervously and sat back against the seat; the thought must have been pretty obvious on her face.

The rooftops came into view as the vehicle circled past a pond and through an alley of pines. It was a colossal manor decked with towering white pillars and faded blue mansard shingles. It looked like it was built for another time. The sun's rays climbed the edges of the opposite side of the home, creating a halo-esque effect. Through the windows of the third floor, she could see its light reflected, basking the upper rooms in a sea foam-colored glow.

They drove past the stone archway with the black iron gates and stopped in front of the face of the house. In her awe of the grand property before her, she had forgotten to glance at the family name at the entrance. The door to her right opened and she was ushered out.

Her breath caught in her throat as she peered ahead of her. She couldn't remember ever feeling so small. Pulling on her bag and straightening her uniform, she ascended the steps to the double doors, which opened the instant she appeared on the landing. "You must be the candidate, Hakuryuu," stated the smartly-dressed man in black. "Yes," she answered, thinking he appeared to come from another time, as well.

She followed him into the foyer, where four other ladies were standing by. They nodded in greeting to one another before going on a guided tour of the servants' hall and the outer first and second levels. Pausing here and there to draw their attention to some facet, the butler emphasized fluently the decorum, responsibilities, and confidentiality a maid of this house was expected to possess, his enervating speech the likely product of years of rehearsal. Nothing gets passed the butler, she was willing to bet. After somehow coming full-circle back to the first floor, he called them individually down into his office for a tête-a-tête interview.

"How would you manage your duties, traveling such a long commute back and forth and going to school during the day?" he inquired, when it was her turn. She explained the excused absences that the school permits senior students and reasoned that, if it was necessary, she could attend her classes at midday and return to work in the afternoon to wait on the family when they come home. "I could have schoolwork done ahead of time or even during my lunch period, so it will not interfere with my responsibilities here." He looked unconvinced. "Please," she said. He closed her file and rose from his chair. "Thank you, Miss," he said, shaking her hand and gesturing at the door. "We'll be in touch."

Standing on the staircase leading to the ground floor, she released her breath. Her eyes lined the silhouettes of the historic ceilings and the ornate curved staircase above her. She did not feel too confident that she made a good impression.

"You still didn't tell me why you were late," a petulant and accusing boy's voice rang from the direction of the front door. Kisara set her hand on the railing and moved up a few steps to ascertain its owner. It was a boy of grade-school age with dark, black hair running past his shoulders. "I got detention," a female voice answered exasperatedly from behind the doorpost. She stepped into the warm yellow light of the foyer and continued going on about her gym teacher detaining her after school for extra laps. " _Let's_ not let Seto know."

Her sharp gold eyes looked up and stared at the place where Kisara was standing. Her younger brother followed her gaze and the three of them looked questioningly at each other. "Kisara," she said in surprise, her lips parting in a smile. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Kisara shifted her grip on her shoulder strap and walked up to them, trying to hold back a disbelieving scoff and dark chuckle at her luck. "Hi," she said, smiling forcedly from the awkwardness and thinking how much worse it would be if Seto were to come through that door at any minute. She had already decided to approach him gradually and didn't want to risk deterring him by seeming too keen.

The younger Kaiba brother extended his hand towards her. "Hi, I'm Mokuba," he said, staring at her intensely. "Your name is Kisara?" She affirmed, shaking his hand and taking note of the shape of his amethyst eyes. He continued watching her curiously, as if trying to place something.

"Are you looking for someone?" her hostess asked, watching her expectantly. She shook her head, responding that she came to interview and praying that Seto's sister didn't think she was stalking her family. The other crossed her arms before her chest, musing that she heard mention of the maid situation earlier and expressing her amazement that it was already being resolved. "Well, best of luck to you," she said, laying a hand on her forearm and inviting her to stay for dinner. Kisara declined politely and excused herself, feeling that she should leave and not tempt fate.

The Kaiba siblings saw her out as a car came round to take her back to the station. "See you at school," Mitsuki called as Mokuba peeked from her side, his face still screwed up in concentration. Reserved like his brother, Kisara thought amusedly as she waved goodbye at them and climbed into the backseat.

It would be nice to work here, she thought, reflecting on the two individuals as they rolled down the hill path from where they had come. A stirring reverberated in her chest as the evening twilight flashed by. She was hopeful that all the signs pointed to this, to her reunion with Set, to an opportunity for them to live out together the lives they could not before.

-o-

Back at her apartment, she showered, ate, and set out to divide and conquer the week's assignments. It was certainly fortunate that most of her other professors were lenient this first week of school. More than halfway through today's calculus homework, she fell asleep and was awoken a little after by the vibrating cell phone on her desk.

Kisara jerked awake and held it to her ear. "Hello?" she answered groggily, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. What was this person going on about? she wondered while trying to regain her cognitive abilities. "Miss Hakuryuu," the stern voice at the other end said, "You're breaking up."

She gasped, straightening herself up in her chair. "Oh, Mr. Naito! I'm so sorry. Would you mind repeating that?" she requested. "Report to the house promptly at six-thirty," he said, in a heaving and cross tone. "Mr. Kaiba runs on a very tight schedule. It is your responsibility to ensure that the younger master and Miss are ready to depart for school in the mornings, in addition to your regular cleaning duties. Do I need to repeat myself again?"

"I'll be there," she answered. _Click_ went the phone as he hung up.

She sat for a moment, staring into space. Her heart was racing a hundred miles per hour and she was filled with a breathlessness as she pictured the large house on the hill and who lived in it.

A/N: Gomen! I've been ambushed by writer's block. I didn't want to rush because I really wanted it to turn out the way I intended.


	4. Dynasty

Dynasty

The morning sun was halfway up the sky when Kisara apprehensively arrived at the foot of the fog-laden hill. It was very surreal, the scene and situation. The mist curling about the estate seemed to so magnify its majesty and romanticism that, for a split second, she was convinced that the butler's call, Set, and her new job were all in actuality a dream.

The window of the gatehouse slid open to one side and the gatekeeper leaned forward over the sill. "Do you have your ID, Miss?" She nodded, unaccustomed to engaging verbal communication so early in the day. Slipping her wallet out of her bag, she held her student card for him to verify. Once satisfied with her information, he thanked and promptly secured her a ride to the house up ahead.

In a few minutes, the groundskeeper pulled up in his go-cart and called for her to hop in. "So you're the new maid," he acknowledged amicably as they took the familiar path she had traveled yesterday. "I don't know what the situation is at the main house, but we seem to go through many of them these days," he mused. Kisara recalled Mr. Naito's vexation yesterday afternoon. He was very particular about conduct. Hoping he might elaborate on his thoughts, she inquired, "Is that such a huge issue here?"

He steered them around the pond and onto the avenue. "Not sure," he responded thoughtfully, "but it started around the time that Miss Kaiba started living here." She watched his face, her curiosity piqued by his last statement. It sounded as if Her school mate hadn't lived there for long at all, but why was that? "Here you are," he said, slowly braking at the side of the house and dousing any hope she had to learn more on the subject.

"Thank you," she said a little defeatedly and tugged her shoulder bag on. Perhaps she'd find out a little more about them all once inside, she thought, heading for the back door leading to the servants' hall.

"Good, you're here," Mr. Naito approved, absentmindedly walking into the convening room and reciting aloud the schedule for the morning. Kisara nodded in greeting to the other servants and made a mental checklist of her specific tasks, which generally consisted of waking, prepping, and subsequently polishing and dusting in the afternoon. It wasn't a long list, yet it demanded a lot of double takes between her two priorities and she needed Naito to repeat some of the details again for clarification. The seasoned butler had already considered this setback of a new worker and, without skipping a beat, referred her to an older maid.

Her mentor and the housekeeper, Ako, led her up a dark and winding staircase to the third floor, where they embarked on a limestone-washed expanse. Light flooded in from the naked windows, causing the whole floor to be masked in a warm and yellowish glow. As they traversed the length of the corridor, her eyes waved over the mounds of unused furniture covered by sheets of white cloth. In some of the rooms, old paintings and stacks of marked boxes rested against each other, dusty and faded. It was like walking through a pure yet forsaken memory. Like a sleeping palace, she thought, glancing around as she followed Ako into the room at the end of the shining hall.

"Your uniform," Ako said, gesturing at the maid's dress hanging over the knob of an antiquated wardrobe. Kisara smiled, surprised at the stereotypical design one would see in manga and dramas. She stepped forward and pulled the dress off its hanger, then walked behind a screen to change. Meanwhile, Ako explained where she could stow her possessions and briefly reviewed Naito's procedures for waking the family.

-o-

"Go on ahead," her mentor encouraged, steering away a tray of hot tea toward the west wing.

Kisara gently turned the door handle to the bedroom. Carefully picking up her tray from the corridor table, she bore it inside and set it on a table beside the gold curtained bed. Nimbly, she strode to the windows and drew the drapes, allowing the morning light to penetrate the dark room and allowing it to dance off the white and gold themed decor.

She heard stirring behind her. "Miss Kaiba," she called uncertainly, walking into the bathroom to turn on the shower. "It's time to wake up." There was a groan and then a defeated and incoherent mumbling.

Coming back into the room, she saw Seto's sister blindly stirring her demitasse with a half-awake squint. "Good morning," the young lady murmured, her eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Kisara accepted her half-sipped cup and replaced it on the tray. "You got the job," the voice at her back exclaimed softly, sounding more awake now. She laughed cheerfully as Kisara shared her relief and joy at receiving the butler's call the night before. "Oh, that's Naito, all right—keeping everyone in suspense."

Their conversation quickly ended when Kisara's phone alerted her that it was already time for her to move on. She quickly excused herself as the other hopped onto the floor and sped-walked to the opposite wing, profusely praying that her legs would take her to her second destination soon.

The intended door came into sight as she passed the balcony overlooking the ground floor. Reaching out to the door handle, she had the strange sensation that she wasn't alone in that corridor. As she stared into his perplexed mien, she had to remind herself of whom she was really looking at. The blood rushed to her face and her legs felt rooted to the spot. A berating voice inside her head goaded her to say something. "G—" She stopped, seeing that his expression had hardened and there was an empty look to his eyes. Seto impatiently glanced off to the side and turned to descend the stairs.

It bothered her how dismissing he could be, yet she forced herself to look away from his blue school uniform and refocused her attention onto her next responsibility. They had a tight schedule to keep to. Balancing the tray in a daze, she took it off the corridor table and repositioned it inside the room beside the bed. She spun around to draw the drapes but was startled by the large amethyst eyes staring at her from behind the curtain.

Kisara gasped and slapped a hand to her chest, just realizing that the bedside lamp was on and that the young master was already awake. The tween boy watched her with the same curious expression he sported yesterday afternoon. "Good morning," she said sweetly, trying to mask her nervousness and attempting to reclaim her composure. Why do they have the same look, she thought, carefully pouring him a cup and handing it to him.

She folded her arms across her waist and watched Mokuba finish his tea. It would make sense for them to have similar expressions, she figured, what with the two being brothers. He was very much like Seto in a way and only moderately more candid. She assumed that there was mystery to this young boy as well, given his wary and forward nature.

Mokuba stepped into his slippers and replaced his cup on the tray. The fact hit her—she hadn't drawn the drapes or gotten the shower ready. "I got it," he said, walking past her. "You could open up the drapes and help Mitsuki. I'll be out in ten." Her cheeks flushed and she assented, feeling embarrassed at neglecting her duties and having to be reminded by someone younger than herself.

Back in Mitsuki's room, she brushed through the lengthy red hair and braided it back while simultaneously answering questions about her recent move to Domino and previous schooling. Watching the animated face in the mirror, she couldn't help but observe that there was barely any resemblance to the faces of the siblings. The flaming hair and gold eyes were very distinct from the traits of the other two. She was tempted to ask; however, she decided against it, ruling that it would be tactless to ask about that personal subject.

Mitsuki studied her own reflection in the vanity mirror, turning her head from side to side and admiring the work. "That's pretty," she said, thanking her. "You're welcome, Miss Kaiba," she responded and announced that she was returning to Master Mokuba's. "Just call us by our first names," the Miss insisted with a hint of embarrassment, stating that the titles were too awkward between schoolmates.

On returning to the west wing, Kisara discovered the young boy awaiting her in the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. She dried his shoulders and legs off gently with a folded towel and ran a comb through his wet mane. Despite his strong front, which made him seem older than his age, his intact childhood was evident in his temperament as she brushed and blow-dried his hair and later in the expectant passivity with which he depended on her to button up the neckline of his polo shirt.

She collected the tea tray while he filled his backpack with select materials to take to school. Her hands firmly on either side of the tray, she pressed down on the handle with her elbow and traipsed outside into the hall.

"Of course I didn't have anything to do with it," rang Mitsuki's voice from down the staircase.

She turned in its direction at the mention of her name and listened attentively. Her heart jumped at the sound of Seto's voice. "She was here yesterday for an interview. Mokuba and I ran into her as she was leaving." There was a pause before Mitsuki asked his reason for being against her employment.

"She could be trouble," he said. "We don't know..."

Kisara strained her ears to hear the rest of his response. The volume at which he spoke was low already that it easily became muddled with their footsteps.

"I'm done," said a voice at her side. Mokuba had emerged in the open doorway, clutching his backpack straps in either hand. She forced a smile and wished him a good day before traveling down the opposite end of the hall with her tray, her heart sinking at the thought of Seto's mistrust of her. What ulterior motive did he think she had?

"All done?" asked Ako, as she entered the kitchen. "Yes," she responded softly, the contents of her eavesdropping still on her mind. "See? I told you," her mentor said cheerfully. "Nothing to be nervous about. You just get them up and ready for school, then get on with your house chores. We'll be seeing you again this afternoon?"

She responded affirmatively, watching the other maid bustle around the counter to pick up a tall cloth bento carrier. "Here," Ako said, passing her the carrier, "you'll want to catch them in another half hour or they'll leave without you. In the meantime, we'll head back upstairs and straighten out their beds."

Kisara glanced at the contents of the bag, noticing that there were three boxes packed. Her spirits lifted in appreciation when she was informed that the third was hers. She thanked her, grateful that she had made at least one ally.

-o-

"You're here!" Mitsuki exclaimed, rising from the last two steps of the staircase. Kisara stepped onto the ground floor clutching the bento carrier in one hand and holding her bag up against her shoulder in the other. "The other two have already left, so you get to join me." She beckoned her and led the way through the foyer and out to the front where their car was humming.

Kisara ducked into the backseat of the car after her and placed their belongings by her feet, wondering about the discretion that the butler had stressed during yesterday's tour and how on earth she'd evade questions about her employers if they were seen arriving together.

"They told me that you were planning on taking the train," Mitsuki announced, clipping in her seatbelt at the other end. "I told them there's no point in the two of us going separately if we were heading for the same place. In fact, my brothers really should have traveled with us, but my elder brother was in a rush about stopping by 'the company' and whatnot."

Kisara pulled the belt across her chest and secured it. "Your brother works at a company?" she asked, thinking it must be his senior year internship. "What does he do?" She was caught off-guard by the tinkling laughter and suddenly felt very foolish.

"No, silly," Mitsuki answered. "He runs it—inherited it from my late father."

He has his own company, she thought in awe. He was so young, at least her age or eighteen. She couldn't imagine how much responsibility he must hold as proprietor of a business and estate.

"By the way," her mistress said, watching her intently, "did you know Seto before this?"

Did she know Seto? She pondered Set and his modern-day incarnation. They gave off the same feeling; at the same time, he was a complete stranger to her. She shook her head, maintaining her eye contact with the probing ones that stared back at her. "No," she admitted casually, trying not to sound bitter, "I've never met him before."

She was glad of her previous reply as the cat-like eyes continued to bore into hers. There was something unsettling about her demeanor and how seamlessly it transitioned back and forth between affability and gravitas, almost as if testing her. "Tell me, then," Mitsuki whispered with an accompanying grin. "What do you think of Nii-san?"

Kisara answered hesitantly, "It's hard to say. He seems a little guarded." She hoped that, by answering so, she was avoiding walking into a trap. She couldn't be sure of the reason for such a question. As the shrewd look gradually melted into mirth, she silently released her breath.

-o-

Seto arrived ten minutes before class and immediately buried his face in a book, indicating with no room for interpretation that he was not accepting any social interaction. The rest of his classmates had learned his bodily cues, as none dared to interrupt him.

Kisara looked back to the writing materials on her desk and sat facing forward for homeroom to begin. She couldn't speak to her boss anyway—what had she to say that he'd be remotely interested in?

She looked to the empty desk on her left. Jonouchi hadn't arrived yet. He and the others will probably ask about yesterday's interview. What would he say when he finds that she is working for his enemy? She smiled, thinking of his certain dismayed outburst, before catching wind of some female classmates looking sneeringly back at her.

She lowered her eyes back to her desk. A couple were kind enough to acknowledge her yesterday during classroom breaks but the majority were still keeping their distance. She didn't deem the school was too welcoming to newcomers.

Eventually, her ally showed up, minutes before the bell rung. Dropping his messenger bag on the floor beside his desk, he plopped into his chair and greeted her. "I'm well," she replied cheerfully, returning his query.

With relish, he started describing all that she had missed yesterday afternoon when, suddenly, his eyes stared daggers past her. She stopped laughing and instinctively followed his gaze, only to be caught in the crossfire with Seto's glare. She couldn't wrap her mind around what would make him look at them with such loathing. They were hardly any louder than the rest of their peers. "Don't mind him," Jonouchi said indifferently, touching her left shoulder and calling her attention back.

She didn't dare look away just yet, in case Seto had something to say. He didn't. Rather, he simply closed his book and stared ahead as the homeroom teacher walked in, calling for silence before she read aloud the announcements for the day.

Kisara followed suit and glanced to the front of the class. She had to get through the next four hours of Physics, History, English, and Physical Ed. If she did have to face remonstration later back at the manor, she'd have plenty of time to be miserable about it all afternoon.

-o-

"Look at them," Jonouchi, with his arms lazily crossed above his head, said with a mixture of exasperation and envy as he eyed the crowd of adoring students trailing behind their idol, Kaiba. "As if he needs any more ego." Kisara understood how he felt. In contrast, however, she wished she had the gall to walk alongside him as they did.

Towering a head above the male students, walking with ease and command in his track suit, a towel casually draped around his shoulders, he certainly stood out among the rest. Everyone—well, almost everyone, she corrected on hearing Jonouchi's grumbles—held him in high regard. They listened when he spoke, offered salutations if they could catch his eye, parted hallways to usher him through, gave him the last say in a class decision... All of their actions lauded the leader in their midst. The only other person who could compete for their attention was Yugi Mutou, whom even the great king acknowledged with a nod.

"We're thinking of having lunch on the rooftop today," Yugi told Jonouchi in passing, Anzu and Honda walking beside him.

"We'll come right after we change," Jonouchi said, his energy up again, "right, Kisara?" She broke from her train of thought and hurriedly looked away from the figure further ahead of them. He asked tentatively for her opinion, as if in fear she might decline.

Anzu linked arms with her. "Come with us," she said amicably before dropping her volume to a whisper and forecasting that Mitsuki will likely be eating with Kaiba. "It's always just the two of them when he's here."

"All right," Kisara accepted and insisted they head on upstairs before her. "My lunch is in the classroom," she said, planning to drop off the bentos to her employers before rejoining them.

Honda clapped a hand on Jonouchi's shoulder and winked. "See you guys in a little bit," he said and sprinted to catch up to his classmates, leaving Jonouchi and her to reunite with the rest of their class.

As they neared their respective locker rooms, Jonouchi told her that he'd wait at the gym's entrance when he was done. "I'll go back with you," he offered. She thanked him but refused politely. "It won't take long," she said assuringly before disappearing into the girls' side.

Changing quickly back into her uniform and avoiding the other girls' around, she raced out to meet Mitsuki in the shade of the outdoor corridor that led into the courtyard. "Thanks!" the latter said, accepting the bento bag from her and turning in the direction of the site where they had had lunch together the day before. "I can take it back with me into the classroom, so no need to pick it up."

Watching her figure recede in the background, Kisara understood what Anzu had referred to. The Kaibas ate lunch only with each other when the two were at school. There was no room for anyone else when they were in each other's company, although she had an inkling that it was largely due to Seto's expressed preference when one considered yesterday's open invitation. "Last staircase in the west wing, top second door to the right," she recited under her breath on her way back into the school building.

It was difficult getting to the rooftop, the way being as straightforward as the directions uttered. When she emerged on the last step, she found her group spread out beside the covered wire fence. They waved upon seeing her and scooted to one side to allow room for one more.

"We saw you come to school this morning in the Kaibas' car," Anzu said, sipping from her juice pouch as they ate their lunches on the bench and looked down on the courtyard below. Kisara confirmed, wondering what she made of it. "Don't worry, we won't let anyone know the reason." Glancing at the boys to the back of them, she sneakily added, "Better not let Jono find out though."

They laughed and serenely commented on the pretty facets of the improved landscaping. Anzu remarked that there were many developments taking place to the grounds and the student population. "You're probably the first transfer we have for the new school year," she preluded, "but you won't be the last. We've actually had quite a number of new faces in the last semester. Your lady boss is actually one of them."

Kisara bit into a piece of her apple slice. "Oh? I didn't know that."

"Yup. She came in January. We were surprised that Kaiba actually went through with it. Shortly afterwards, we started getting more kids with old family names."

"Go through with what?" Kisara asked, sensing that she was finally discovering what everyone else seemed to already be aware of.

"Accepting her as family and heir to the Kaiba fortune…" Anzu said, a flicker of astonishment flashing across her face before she collected herself. "I guess you haven't been around long enough to hear about that. I thought you'd have heard from the house staff; they say maids talk."

Patiently, she elaborated that no one knew the actual details surrounding Seto Kaiba's decision to keep his adopted sister around. He wasn't one to concede to people but, whether it was for purely business or personal reasons, they must have reached some mutual understanding that benefited both of them. "She's not his biological sister," she added, "which means that she could be a potential obstacle to any rich daughter hoping to be romantically involved with Kaiba, and she brings enough shares to Kaiba Corp to ensure that her adopted brother maintains the majority of their company, making _her_ a draw for wealthy sons and Kaiba an even more desirable business partner."

Kisara was only half-listening. Her body had tensed up since she heard "not biological" and "potential obstacle." She could hear the blood rushing in her ears as her heart pitter-patted against her chest. She was glad that Anzu stared into space as the latter searched her thoughts. She wasn't sure how she looked in response to this newfound information, but she was afraid that her face would reveal it all. "You don't think they're interested in each other, do you?" she asked.

Anzu murmured thoughtfully, "It doesn't help that neither mix very much." She grinned immediately afterwards, as if she herself had entertained this notion and already considered herself unconvinced, "But I don't think so, do you? You'll be able to tell better than the rest of us, since you're working for them." _If_ she'll still be working for them, Kisara thought melancholically, remembering Seto's conversation and his scowl from earlier.

-o-

In the last two periods, the words on the board and those emanating from the professors flew past her, hardly sticking. To her left, Jonouchi was fast asleep on his desk, the open book between his hands shielding his slumber from view. She was nervous for him, should the instructor decide to walk to the back of the room and give a resounding remonstration with his pointer.

When the last bell of the day rang, she breathed a sigh of relief and lightly prodded him awake with the eraser-end of her pencil. "Huh?" he uttered, sleepily blinking. "Time to go?" She confirmed and busily packed her belongings into her bag. "Thanks for waking me," he yawned and stretched.

"See you tomorrow!" she said, smiling and waving as she backed out towards the door. "Bye!" he called. "Good luck with your new job!" She nodded and made for the front gates where Mitsuki would be waiting.

Some yards away from the entrance, she spied Seto getting into his separate limo and setting off. Her head ached; she didn't know what to think anymore. All she knew was that the feeling reverberating in her chest was making the next hour alone with Miss Kaiba look unbearable.

"Hello," the redhead said, just getting behind the door of her ride. "Hi," Kisara answered in a higher pitch, hoping to relay more enthusiasm than her current state allowed. Subconsciously, she was irrationally avoiding meeting the other's gaze but it was a fault she never learned to control. Once they were situated, she asked with some difficulty, "How was your day?"

"Pretty good! A bit slow. I don't have an interesting line-up this…"

She felt ashamed of her budding antipathy against the person seated beside her. She could not have foreseen that one of the first acquaintances she made—also, her new employer—might already be the one to stand between her and the shadow of who Set was.

Maybe it was due to naiveté or fanciful thinking but, for a time she had held onto the idea that when she finally found Set, he'd be just the same as before, already instilled with the knowledge of their previous bond and keenly awaiting their encounter as she did. What if Seto was already attached to this person?

"Sorry we couldn't meet for lunch today…"

No, she needed to stop overthinking. It was too early to tell.

But… Thoughts of their differences in circumstance pelted her reasons for wanting to remain in this situation. The timing of everything was off. She now wished she hadn't met her, that she had walked away soon as she learned who her employers would be. At least then she could approach them personally as a friend instead of a servant.

-o-

Ako briskly led her to different parts of the house, indicating the places that needed cleaning. Her finger glided over stone busts and expensive-looking vases as they strode through the first floor and then up to the second, pointed to various colored landscape paintings and curtain valances, and rested against the marble balustrades. The previous maid whom Kisara replaced had only been gone for just over a week but the house was already behind in up-keeping. "We'll leave the windows for tomorrow," Ako instructed and instantly transitioned to the topics of laundry and closet maintenance prior to leaving for her own responsibilities.

As Kisara stood wiping the specks of dust from the console table, she imagined how many neglected nooks and crannies could accrue in a matter of weeks. She glanced down the other half of the hall at the ornaments she had just finished polishing. It was a never-ending task, she thought, unrolling the table runner to return it to its original setting.

With care, she proceeded to reposition the vase on the table, ignoring the footsteps that traveled past her, their sounds muffled by the garnet carpeting. When she was satisfied with her completion at this site, she furtively investigated the silent passerby. He was a fast walker, she thought, stealing a last glance at his back and picking up her caddy. There was more to do downstairs before her shift ended.

By the time Kisara had the chance to look up from her work, it was seven twenty in the evening. She finished folding the last pair of Mokuba's shorts and loaded it into a basket to take upstairs before the Kaibas finished their dinner.

She made a bee-line for Mokuba's, staring straight ahead to evade the first bedroom door and the thoughts it provoked. Her fear of impending dismissal had subsided in the previous hours as she neared the end of her shift. Nevertheless, she didn't think she had any more stamina to face any of them, at least not until tomorrow.

In the walk-in closet, the clothes found themselves onto the hooks and into the drawers without her conscious awareness. She was exhausted from all of the rationalizing and moving uninterruptedly back and forth through the manor. She didn't expect the job to be easy; she just didn't factor in what a toll five hours of sleep and a full day would do to her body. Thankfully, they had a quick supper downstairs before resuming work. Otherwise, she'd be afraid of fainting on the commute home.

Leaving the room promptly, she spied Ako coming onto the landing from the first floor. She smiled gently, only to be met with a grim and worried expression in return. "What happened?" she asked.

There was no need for the ensuing message, for the pitying look on the older maid's face was all it took to confirm her suspicion. Unquestioningly in response to her summons, she turned towards the east wing for Mr. Kaiba's study. She could see no point in prolonging the inevitable. He had already decided.

Standing outside the magnificently stained glass double doors, she sighed and shut her eyes. Her mind was already running wild with worries about finding new employment. Not many places will be willing to cooperate with her student schedule. It was going to be very hard after this, especially since she paid her initial deposit for the studio only a couple of weeks prior and would be following up with the rent at the end of the month.

Willing herself not to cry, she softly rapped on the wooden panel and turned the handle. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

She struggled to keep her gaze level with his. His ocean eyes held a dangerous glint and his lips were tightly pressed into a thin line. "Who are you?" he demanded. She gawked at him, not knowing how to respond or what prompted such a query. After a couple seconds of her silence, he tossed a file on the desk in front of him. "I repeat. Who are you?"

"I don't understand what you mean," she stammered, wondering why he was so offended.

He glowered, irritably flipped the folder open and fanned out the pages. "There was no record of Kisara Hakuryuu anywhere on this island until two years ago," he tersely pointed out. She was shocked to find that he had information on her parents, her previous homes, her schools... An extensive background check was done on her.

Without explanation, he continued, "You have a proclivity for relocating independently from place to place. Four different addresses in one year and two others in the next before coming to this city. One has to wonder how you afforded such a living with so little prior work experience." He held up her release forms. "Emancipated at fifteen under no extenuating circumstances... No previous cases of abuse, neglect..." Her hands shook as he read aloud fragments from the pages.

She saw the shadows of her broken family unit, the door shutting after an older woman pulled the last suitcase out through the doorway. And later, a dim room illuminated only by the light from the television screen casted upon the lounging figure of a wasted middle-aged man.

"...I can't see any reason why this would have been authorized. Both your mother and father willingly signed this? I find that hard to believe. Then, there's a name change immediately following…" From Kira Saito. That was who she used to be. The stack of documents slammed onto the desk with low thud. "An interesting choice of name— _Kisara. Hakuryuu_ ," he said, clearly disgusted with her choice. "What did they offer you?"

"Sir?"

"Who sent you? One of the goons from the Board? When I find out which—"

"No one's sent me," she interrupted, hoping to appease him midway and avoid an outburst.

He sat back in his chair and pointed at her. "Someone put you up to this," he declared. "It must have been one of the help I fired that fed it to them. 'Hakuryuu?' Is there anyone who doesn't know that it is my fav-" Your favorite what? she thought, noticing how taken aback he was.

While he had second thoughts about what he had uttered, Kisara seized the opportunity to explain herself. If she were to make him understand, perhaps he'd be willing to keep all of what he had on her contained. It was a maelstrom of her mother leaving, her father's frequent absences, her plan for emancipation. "You were right. They didn't sign me off. I forged their signatures," she confessed, watching his unmoving expression for any detection of danger. "I'd done it enough times in the past, doing their taxes, that I was able to replicate them."

Working wasn't an issue as she had a permit to seek employment. The challenge was finding someone open to hiring a student and minor. Throughout her first and second year of high school, she stayed as a guest with various individuals and sometimes their family, including the local butcher's wife, a female staff member from school, a cousin of an acquaintance, and a distant aunt. "They opened their homes to me and, in return, I helped out with their businesses, house chores, or pitched in for the bills."

"In regards to my name," she began, twisting her fingers awkwardly and glancing down at her shoes. "My mother hadn't contacted us in two years and my father only ever came home now and then. I didn't think it would matter much at that point if they found out about my status." She imagined that day at the court house and described the caseworker inquiring if she wanted a new identity. "It didn't occur to me that I could change it," she said, "so I put down the first words that came to mind."

Glancing back up, she could see that he looked more attentive now than he had moments before, that he was contemplating something. Curious about his perceived connection between her name and his antagonists, she asked him what significance it held. "It's nothing," he muttered defensively, leaving his chair and going over to the espresso machine further down the wall.

She waiting uneasily for his deliberation over the gurgling of the machine, but his back remained turned to her. Finally, she blurted out, "Are you going to report me?"

He pulled the steaming cup carefully towards him and turned to the side. "Whatever complications you get in with the authorities is none of my concern," he responded indifferently, glancing out the window. "Let Naito know to set up your direct deposit."

Kisara could hardly believe her ears. "I'm not fired?" she asked, to be sure she was hearing correctly. He coldly asked if that was what she wished, which she refused apologetically. "Thank you," she said and bade him good night. Although his face was still turned toward the opposite wall, she thought she saw a small nod.

Her hand lifted off the handle as the door clicked close behind her. A heavy weight had been lifted off her mind and shoulders. She could breathe a little easier now that her job and foreseeable future were secure.

Ahead and to her left, a door opened and the Mitsuki exited her room. "Everything all right?" she asked brightly as their paths intersected. "Yes," Kisara happily answered, still feeling relieved that she came out of her last meeting alive. "That's good. Thanks for your help today," her mistress said, taking a step down the corridor. "We'll see you bright and early tomorrow! Good night."

"Good night," she responded, proceeding in the direction of the west wing and thinking she would wish Mokuba well on her way downstairs. Just before she rounded the corner, she heard the door of the study open again behind her and, glancing back, saw a wave of red hair slip inside.

Momentarily, she stared at the glass panes, aware of nothing else but the slow rising and falling of her chest and the knot that had formed across the pit of her stomach. Then, turning on her heel, she strode away as quickly as her legs would take her.

A/N: Rewrote this chapter after doing a more intensive character study with another fan on deviant art.


End file.
